


Decoy Boyfriend

by tacoma_vibes



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, New England, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 16:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15465396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacoma_vibes/pseuds/tacoma_vibes
Summary: He escorted Clancy to her sister’s wedding, pretending to be her very charming and wealthy boyfriend for her overly nosy mother in exchange for the honor of a few tangos. Clancy wasn’t a half bad dancer.   - Excerpt from Touch & GeauxI just found this so amusing that I had it write it. But instead of being a Mistaken Identity comedy piece, it took a slight turn towards Angstville. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway!





	Decoy Boyfriend

Michelle Clancy stood leaning against Zane’s desk, her steely-eyed gaze fixed upon him as he pretended to work. Zane finally rolled his eyes and pushed aside the spiral bound notebook in front of him.

“Why can’t you just tell her the truth? Why does there have to be a boyfriend in the first place?”

Clancy was shaking her head even as he spoke. “When Tim and I were dating, she came down here to meet him. She’s always bugging me about my love life. It’s just…you won’t really understand.”

Zane studied her for a moment, noting the air of defeat clouding her usually effortless persona. Actually, he did know a thing or two about overbearing mothers who stick their noses were it didn’t belong.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, mulling it over. “What about Alston and Perrimore? You asked them?”

Clancy gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Freddy can’t lie to save his life. And Scott’s probably going to trip over one of those folding lawn chairs.” A hint of a smile crossed her face before she spoke again. “I’ve heard that after all the formal dances there’s going to be a tango for the wedding guests.”

Zane ducked his head, trying to hide his smile. “So?”

“Grady told us you were big on line dancing as a kid. C’mon Zane, we’ll have a fun getaway. It’ll be better than moping around in that row house the whole weekend.”

Zane felt a twinge of pain and longing at the mention of Ty’s name. They had spoken briefly this morning, Ty telling him that he’d just left the hospital after sitting at Kelly’s bedside whole day. Their conversations these days was always tense and strained, neither of them volunteering to share much beyond the monotony of the day’s events. Zane wondered if they would ever get back the ease and warmth they shared before the NOLA catastrophe. He knew they both needed to sit down and talk it out. Because even though all the secrets were out, there was still so much uncertainty between them that needed to be discussed thoroughly and exhaustively. He pushed aside the line of thought for now.

He sighed and glanced up at her. “When are we leaving?”

 

Blue was the word that came to Zane’s mind as their airport rental drove past Providence. Clear blue skies and a pristine blue coastline glimmering in the background. He had never been to Rhode Island before but he could see the appeal. The place had chutzpah. It was blue collar dive bar meets Ivy League. “I can’t imagine you growing up here,” he told Clancy, grinning.

She flashed him a smile. “I was preppy as hell in high school. All plain cardigans and monograms and sailing trips during the weekends.”

“So what changed? You majored in political science, right?”

She nodded, smiling ruefully. “Mm-hmm. Political Science at Brown as opposed to Interior Design at RISD like my mom wanted.”

Clancy’s mom was starting to sound an awful lot like Beverly, on par with trying to influence her daughter’s career.  Zane cleared his throat. “So I’m just Zane Garrett, then? No fake identity?”

“Yeah, it would be best to stick to your true self.” She stared out the window, the late April sun casting a honey-colored tinge on her frizzy red hair. She seemed subdued all morning, which was really uncharacteristic of her. The nerves of reconciling with a somewhat estranged family. Zane could relate.

“Your sister knows?”

Clancy turned to look at him, his own reflection showing on her aviators. “Yeah, Meredith’s in on it. She’s the one who suggested the fake boyfriend idea to get mom off my back.”

“So let me get this straight. For your mom, a rich guy equates to a good match for her daughter?”

Clancy chewed on her lip thoughtfully, considering what to say. “I mean, wealth and social status are ideals a lot of people go by. Not just parents, even people seeking out partners.”

Zane nodded in agreement.  That much was true. “Do you feel the same?” he asked.

“Of course not. Otherwise I’d have dated that asshole Brock DuPont like my mother wanted.”

Zane snorted. Yeah, he didn’t think she was materialistic at all. It reminded him of the time he divulged about his wealthy inheritance to Ty during the cruise ship job. The revelation had made Ty uncomfortable, to say the least. It was another one of those tricky subjects they never talked about.

Clancy’s place was across the bridge over the Moshassuck River, with concrete and rail lines coursing through either sides of the riverbed. The suburb had a roguish New England charm to it, with its picturesque Victorian homes and gas lamps adorning the sidewalks. She tapped the driver on the shoulder to tell him to change lanes. Her house was easy to spot, all spruced up for the wedding. Cream-colored fabric was draped all over the doorway arc, entwined with garlands of light bulbs.  

A large, portly man in his late sixties emerged from the house, watching their car for a moment before hurrying along towards them. He opened the car door and pulled Clancy towards him, embracing her in an exuberant hug. Clancy laughed merrily as she hugged him back, her sleek black pumps lifted off the ground.

“You should have called, Misha. I’d have someone sent over,” he said, peering down at her from behind gold-rimmed glasses.

“Nah, it was fine. Papa, this is my boyfriend, Zane Garrett. Zane, this is Professor Ian Clancy.”

“Hello sir.” Ian Clancy had kind, expressive eyes and a graying beard that must have once been the same auburn color as his daughter’s hair. “Nice to meet you, son. I believe my wife’s looking forward to meeting you more,” Ian said with a warm chuckle.

“Meredith’s here yet?” Clancy murmured, tugging at her dad’s arm as they moved back inside. Zane hoisted their carry-on bag on to his shoulder and followed the duo. Well, at least her dad was chummy.

The décor inside the house was minimalistic; more lush drapes and accented foliage wreaths. Michelle introduced Zane to the few guests gathered there, mostly just close friends and family who’d come over to help with the last-minute chores.

“Mom,” Clancy called out to someone across the room. A pale, frail woman in a full-sleeved chiffon gown edged past the guests, excusing herself as she made her way towards them.

“Michelle,” she greeted her daughter, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Mom, this is—

“And this must be the boyfriend you failed to mention until yesterday,” she said almost amusedly. Her sharp gaze scanned his appearance, taking in the suede boots and chinos.

“Hello, Mrs. Clancy, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Zane said, extending his hand. Her stiff smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she returned the handshake.

Zane looked at Clancy expectantly, who simply rolled her eyes. “Mom, this is Zane Garrett, as I was saying. Zane, Edna Clancy.”

Edna tipped her head to the side and regarded him intently. “Garrett? Is that German? As in a diminutive for Gerhardt?”

“No ma’am, I’m afraid not. My ancestral roots are mostly English and Spanish. Although, we’re amongst the first to settle in Texas, so it’s hard to be sure.”

“Oh, then you must know of Richard Jeffries,” Edna said.

“Who?”

“Richard Jeffries. The billionaire oil pipeline tycoon from Dallas. His family had Spanish origins too.”

“Mom, Zane doesn’t know every billionaire in Texas,” Clancy said in an exasperated tone.

“My mother’s probably heard of him,” Zane chimed in. “She attends a couple of fundraising events in Dallas every year.”

“Oh, I see,” Edna said, sounding impressed. “So, Michelle tells me your family owns a large estate outside of Austin...”

Zane’s eyes darted towards Clancy, who took a step behind her mom’s field of vision and gave him a shrug, as if to say, this is what you came here to do, so spin her a story.

Edna Clancy seemed moderately satisfied with his tale of grandeur. Some of which was truly his family’s history, others were bits and pieces he’d embellished. Thankfully, Clancy’s dad interrupted the interrogation, saying he needed an extra pair of hands to help with the rehearsal arrangements.

“You did good,” Clancy told him when she cornered him later.

“You think?”

“Yeah. She asked me if things are getting serious,” Clancy said grimly.

Zane groaned and gave a hollow laugh. “What did you tell her?”

“That we’re taking things slow, trying not to get busted at work. It’s gonna be a shame when I tell her we broke up because I caught you cheating.”

“Hey!”

Clancy rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell her we got busted screwing on top of the copier.”

 

The rehearsal was at a hotel ballroom downtown, courtesy of the groom’s party. The place was as fancy as these things went. Historic portraits, exquisite chandeliers and table wear polished to perfection. Zane flitted amongst Clancy’s friends and relatives, explaining to each of them that, yes the Bureau had a strict fraternization policy and yes, their relationship was very hush-hush at the moment. He later got sucked into a conversation with one of Clancy’s cousins about Providence mayor Buddy Cianci who was now a convicted felon. The cousin strongly believed that Cianci’s indictment was a frame-up by the FBI and whether Zane could look into the case and unearth the truth about their beloved mayor. Zane excused himself under the guise of finding his girlfriend and walked towards the main lounge area.

He blinked when he came face to face with an enormous champagne fountain set as the centerpiece. The cascade of bubbly, yellow liquid trickling down the silver chalice cups was an arresting sight. He whirled around and walked away, drawing in a deep breath to calm his haywire mind. Getting back on track after his relapse in New Orleans proved to be hard.  He attended his AA meetings religiously and kept busy with his books, art and other pursuits. But that didn’t stop the bouts of craving and insomnia he experienced every now and then. And a bigass fountain of champagne wasn’t helping either.

“Zane!” Clancy’s voice calling out his name drew his attention. She was walking towards him, hand in hand with a woman who looked very much like her, save for being a few inches taller and strawberry blonde hair cut short in a bob.

Meredith Clancy gave him a once-over before glancing at her sister. “Well, you’ve got great taste in decoy boyfriends.”

Zane chuckled. “Simmer down there, Mrs. Swanson.”

“Not Mrs. Swanson ‘till tomorrow. Mom give you guys any trouble?” Meredith asked, looking between him and Clancy.

“Oh yeah, she grilled him good,” Clancy said blithely. “Probably figured out his genealogy chart by now.”

“Sounds like her,” Meredith agreed with a solemn nod.

“Oh come on, she’s not so bad,” Zane insisted.

He shifted uncomfortably when both sisters stared at him. “What? She’s a bit nosy, but she’s only concerned about the guy her daughter’s dating. I mean, that’s reasonable.”

“Zane, you realize that a huge part of her approval comes from the fact that you’re loaded, right?” Clancy asked earnestly.

“Yeah, that’s a bit skeevy,” Zane mumbled. “But like you said earlier, appearance is everything for a lot of people.”

“Is that experience talking, Agent Garrett?” Meredith asked, narrowing her eyes and smiling at him. “I sense some emotional baggage.”

“She’s a psychotherapist,” Clancy mock-whispered.

“Oh god, not another one,” Zane grimaced, laughing. “Just when I thought I’d gotten rid of Grady for the month.”

Today a great deal of things had reminded him of Ty. From the floral arrangement of orchids in the foyer to Ian Clancy’s discussion about Springfield Armory’s latest handgun, which he knew Ty wouldn’t approve of, gauging it too heavy for concealed carry. Zane would have to call him later, keep him in the loop of things.

The rest of the rehearsal went smoothly, with toasts from both set of parents and a truly heartwarming presentation Clancy had made about her and Meredith’s childhood. The next morning was as hectic as expected. Zane had roomed with the cousin obsessed with Buddy Cianci, after Clancy’s mom made it clear in no uncertain terms that he and Clancy would not be sharing a room. It was a godsend really, otherwise sleeping in the same bed would have been very awkward for both of them.

Zane stood in front of the full-length mirror and adjusted his satin bow-tie. He had gone shopping before they left, getting himself a midnight blue tuxedo and a white dress shirt. The whole ensemble accentuated his dark coloring. It wasn’t too shabby, if he thought so himself. On a whim he brought out his phone, snapped a selfie and sent it to Ty. Zane knew he would be up and about at this hour, probably at the hospital.  

He phone pinged as he put on a pair of cufflinks. Well, that was fast. He sat down on the bed and swiped the home screen icon to view the message.

Zane grinned. Ty must be in a good mood if his opening line was a come-on. His eyes drew towards the moving dotted lines, indicating that Ty was typing something.

Zane burst out of laughing, ignoring the bewildered look the Cianci cousin was giving him.

Zane smiled fondly. That sounded like Kelly. A sharp knock on the door made him look up. Clancy stood by the doorjamb, wearing a blue cap-sleeved lace gown, with her hair pinned up in an artfully messy bun.

“Damn. You clean up well, Red.”

Clancy smirked. “Not so bad yourself, Garrett.” She cocked her head towards the corridor. “We need to get going.”

Zane nodded and stood, smoothing down his jacket.

Zane smiled and pocketed his phone, watching Clancy argue with the Cianci cousin about his outrageous snakeskin boots.

 

It was a rustic barn wedding, cozy and modest compared to the glitzy rehearsal last night. Meredith and Jim had wanted it that way. Zane sat along with the other guests under the marquee decorated with vintage style bunting and watched Meredith walk down the aisle with her dad to ‘Songbird’ by Fleetwood Mac. Their vows were short and sweet, and the guests cheered as they shared their first kiss as man and wife. The rest of the day was a pleasant blur of endless photographs, polite conversations and clink of glasses full of handcrafted cocktails which Zane steered clear of. It was well into the evening before Jim led his bride to the pavilion gazebo that functioned as the makeshift dance floor and they had their first dance together. Soon Clancy appeared at his side. “C’mon, Garrett,” she urged, tugging at his arm and smirking. “This is what you came here for, right?”

Zane laughed and followed her lead. It had been a while since he’d danced the tango but the procession of tempo was instinctual to him. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow; he guided their steps as he held her in a loose embrace, Di Sarli playing in the background. For her part, Clancy kept mirroring his moves, spine straight and feet picked up and placed onto the floor in quick staccato motion. At times when her steps faltered and she swiveled the wrong way, Zane would place a hand on her waist and correct her. They laughed nervously, clutching at each other.  Somebody wolf-whistled when Zane lunged back on his left leg and dipped her in a back corte. They stopped after a couple more steps, taking a bow when the audience applauded.

Clancy excused herself when a couple of old friends ushered her away to catch up, and Zane made his retreat, stepping outside in the garden. Decorations were hung there as well; fairy lights wrapped around trailing garlands of greenery. On the spur of the moment he took out his phone and dialed Ty’s number. For some unexplainable reason, Zane missed him dearly at that moment. Maybe it was watching the nuptials whole day, when a distant part of him remembered that he had almost proposed to Ty a month ago.

“Hey, Lone Star.” Ty’s voice was casual and cheerful at the other end.

“I miss you so damn much, Grady,” Zane said in a rush, too flustered to be bothered with a greeting.

Ty was silent for a so long, the only way Zane knew he was still on the line was the sound of his steady breathing. “Zane,” he finally said softly.

“So I’m dancing the tango with Clancy, who’s a pretty good dancer by the way, and I’m suddenly reminded of you and Norina Bianchi dancing. You remember her right, Norina Bianchi?”

Ty’s tinkling laughter was music for his ears. “Yeah, I remember her. I also remember being whacked on the head a lot with her designer bag.”

“I really wanted to dance with you back then, Ty.”

“Baby…” Ty’s voice trailed off. “You know what? We will dance together when I get back to Baltimore. Hell, we could sign up for classes if you want, attend one of those Milonga workshops. I think they have one in Canton. ”

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice” Zane agreed, raking a hand through his hair, already feeling at peace after talking to Ty for a few minutes. “I should probably get going.”

“I love you, Zane. You know that, right?”

Zane smiled. He did know that, but the reassurance made him warm and fuzzy nonetheless. “Yeah, I know. I love you too. Bye.”

He found Clancy sprawled on the steps of the gazebo, nursing a wine glass. She waved at him as he approached, dumping the contents of the glass onto the grass. Zane was grateful for the gesture. Everyone in their team were considerate about his sobriety, careful not to parade their drinks under his nose when they went out.

“Where did you disappear to?” Clancy asked, patting at the step beside her.  When Zane sat next to her he noticed that her eyes were glassy and her cheeks looked flushed even in the faint light.

“Did you have a lot to drink?”

“Meredith and Jim are moving to Sacramento,” she said hoarsely, sounding close to tears.

Oh crap. He patted her arm awkwardly. He had always been bad at giving solace.

Clancy shook her head and laughed drily. “And my mom’s giving me tips to get you to propose to me. How did it come to this?”

Zane winced. “Goddamn. Clancy, look at me,” he ordered, shifting to face her. “You are smart and witty and can make grown men cry. You are way better than being some dude’s arm candy.”

She bit her lip and nodded, peering at him oddly. Zane didn’t think much of it, amounting it to her being intoxicated. Until she suddenly lunged forward and tried to plant one on him.

Zane held up a hand and leaned back, alarmed. “Woah, there. What are you doing?”

Clancy jumped to her feet, looking distraught. “Oh god. I’m so sorry. You were saying all those nice things about me…I thought we had a moment.” Zane sighed and shook his head.

Clancy bit her lip worriedly and started pacing. “Why can’t it be like that Debra Messing rom-com? She hires an escort to be her fake date for her sister’s wedding and they eventually fall in love.”

Zane cracked a smile. “I didn’t think you were the rom-com kinda girl.”

“My bedroom’s full of posters of Molly Ringwald and John Cusack.”

“I wouldn’t know. Your mother wouldn’t let me in there.”

Clancy snorted and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” she murmured, almost to herself.

Zane glanced up at her, startled. He remained silent, not saying anything but not denying it either. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her.

“Is it Janice?”

“Who?” Zane asked blankly.

“Janice Chapman from IT. I know she has the hots for you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know who that is.”

“Wow.” Clancy sat down next to him, previous tension forgotten. “She has this huge crush on you and you don’t even know she exists.”

“Funny how the world works, huh?”

Clancy shifted closer and nudged his arm. “So who’s it? You know you can talk to me.”

Zane wished he could. Clancy narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the truth out of Grady. He wouldn’t stand a chance with my interrogation.”

Zane nodded, trying to keep a straight face. Ty could probably learn a thing or two from him about ducking kisses from drunk people.

The Clancys bid him farewell the next morning, Michelle staying a few more days to spend time with her family. Edna gave him a hug and a wink and told him they had her blessings, whatever that meant. Their pseudo-breakup was going to break that woman’s heart.

Zane decided he’d head down to the office directly from the airport, change into the clothes in his locker instead of running late on a Monday morning and catching flak from McCoy. But at the last minute he figured, what the hell, a trip to the row house wouldn’t hurt much. The first thing he did after paying the cab fare was walk over to their backyard and inspect the Mustang for dents or scratches. Ty hadn’t done tinkering with the vehicle. Meanwhile Zane had vowed to keep it safe for him till he got back.

He dragged his fingers over the bonnet and smiled to himself, ruminating in the melancholy of the moment. He picked up the mail and opened the door, skimming through bills and brochures. He stopped short when he came across an invite for a Milonga class downtown. Attached was a sticky note in a familiar handwriting.

_When I get back._

_Love, Ty_

Zane couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he stepped inside the house.

 


End file.
